


Flames

by jxywritesstuff



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Burning, Death, Depressed Deceit | Janus Sanders, Fire, Infrequent Updates, M/M, Multi, how is that not a tag?, very unfinished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxywritesstuff/pseuds/jxywritesstuff
Summary: Everyone had a soulmate. Two tattoos, permanently inked on your skin in black and white, one representing the owner and the other representative of their soulmate, would burst into color when the pair met. Sometimes people had three tattoos instead of two, or even four. But Janus...Janus had five.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Deceit | Janus/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton (Sanders Sides), Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Jon Cozart/Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 49
Kudos: 148





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Soulmates I guess? Oops there goes the fourth wall.... eh whatever it was never gonna last anyway.

Everyone had a soulmate. 

More accurately, two black-and-white permanent tattoos on their skin, one representing the owner, the other representing their soulmate. Once the pair met, the tattoos would burst into color, marking them bonded for life, connected by intertwining strings of fate. 

Some people, very rarely, had more than two tattoos. Though extraordinarily rare, there were a number of people that had three tattoos, or even four.

Five was unheard of.

And yet, they existed. Five people, forever connected by the threads of destiny, pulling them closer and closer together until they inevitably met. Soulmates.

This is their story.


	2. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: swearing, food mentions, fire, death

From birth, Janus had known that he was different. 

When he was brought into the world, he had not two, not three, but five black-and-white tattoos permanently inked into his skin. A snake curling around his wrist, a heart on his shoulder, what looked like some sort of sword on his forearm, a storm cloud on his ankle, and a book on his lower leg, pure black and grey against his pale skin. They marked him an outcast, different, weird, an imperfection. A burden.

His foster moms didn’t care. 

Both his mum and his mama were loving, caring, and kind parents. They saw his five soul marks as unique, not as an imperfection. Whenever Janus was feeling like an outcast or a mistake, his mama would smile and say, “You’re not an outcast, honeybee. You’re unique and special... but most of all, you’re you.” Then his mum would kiss his forehead and cuddle him into her chest until all of his worries and insecurities would vanish. 

Remy only made things better. On Janus’s first day of second grade, he had sat next to the new kid, a dark-haired boy who was sipping apple juice out of a small cardboard carton. He was talkative and friendly, but nosy. During lunch, he turned to Janus and asked, “Why do you have five tattoos?”

Janus had flinched backwards slightly, but Remy took no notice. “It’s cool!” He continued. “I have three!” 

Janus blinked. He had never thought he’d meet someone weird, like him. Remy continued, not noticing Janus’s surprised reaction. “My cousin’s lucky.” He slurped on his apple juice. “He’s also got five. But he’s a year younger than me, and he lives in another country, so I’ve never met him. I don’t even know his name!”

“Y’know, it’s really not common, having more than two soul marks.” A girl commented from across the table. 

Her friend sneered. “You two are weirdos. C’mon, Jillian, let’s go sit somewhere else.” 

Remy watched them go. “Eh, their loss. You wanna cookie?”

That day, Janus found something he didn’t know he had been missing: a friend. 

They became inseparable, doing everything together. Remy taught him a new word: bitch. The teacher yelled at them and called their parents when they called Jillian and her friends bitches, but Janus didn’t care. Her face had been priceless. And his moms didn’t really mind either, as Jillian had been bullying him. 

But all good things must come to an end. And on a dry fall day in the beginning of third grade, fate threw a brick in the window of Janus’s near-perfect world, shattering it and leaving it open for the rest of the world to creep in. 

He still remembered his mum’s face, beaded with sweat, as she had picked up Janus and ran out of the house despite his screaming. The searing heat. The roar of the flame. The sirens. He had collapsed on his back, looking at the terrifying, deadly, but somehow mesmerizing swirl of oranges and reds and yellows dancing in front of him, burning as bright and hot as the sun. And as his mum ran back into the house to try and find his mama amidst the black smoke. 

His raw voice, screaming “MAMA! MUM! MAMA! PLEASE! DON’T GO!” over and over and over again as the roof of the house in front of him gave way, collapsing to the ground and crushing everything and everyone inside. 

Janus was numb. He couldn’t move. That could not have just happened. It was a dream. It was all a dream. 

Are dreams supposed to hurt this much? He thought as the grass near his face caught fire and a searing pain surged through his bones. He screamed until his voice was raw and scratchy.

The next thing he remembered was the hospital room. 

As he looked at his face in the mirror, tears beaded in the corner of his eyes. The whole left side of his face had been burned beyond repair, scarring him for life. But, the nurses told him, at least you survived. 

The only black thing he had to wear to the funeral was an oversized t-shirt and some dirty, ripped pants, both from charity donations. 

He was only nine. Yet, he had already lost more than most people did in a lifetime. 

And the pain never stopped.


	3. Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS MEANS ABSOLUTELY NO HARM TO ANY CHRISTIANS WHO MAY BE READING THIS. I myself am a Christian, and know for a fact that this character I have made is fictional, and has twisted this religion into something that it is not. I repeat: THIS IS NOT AN ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION 
> 
> TW: Abuse, homophobia, a little bit or racism, religious language, discrimination, talk of “fixing” someone, slight food mentions, very angsty, seriously don’t read if you are triggered easily, bad writing.

The straps of the backpack dug into Janus’s shoulders as he crossed the threshold of the uniform grey house, just one in a row of twenty in the uniform neighborhood. The air was clear and smelled strongly of that faux-floral shampoo that his teacher used to wear. He squinted against the cold air. The grass was an almost too-bright green and the sun was shining brighter than ever. The sameness and cheerfulness of it all made Janus sick.

Inside was just as unpleasant as outside. It was disgustingly uniform, each wall a pearly white, the table lined up perfectly in the center of the kitchen. Boring florescent white lights cast an artificial glow over the cold grey tiled floor. A small wooden cross was hung completely straight above the front door. Nothing was out of place. 

Janus felt his eyes tear up. They had been doing that a lot lately. How dare fate put him in such a bright, cheerful place when the world was this cruel? So unforgiving as to kill his biological parents, then his foster moms, and then chuck him to the straightest, most Christian woman he had ever seen, won upon seeing him for the first time looked him up and down and frowned at his five soulmarks? 

You have to stay strong. 

A single tear dripped down his cheek. That was what his mum had told him, before she had ran back into the house after his mama. 

His new mother, Karen, was nowhere near as caring. She looked at Janus with a tight-lipped smile, moving to guide him up the stairs. He obeyed, seeing the determined glint in the woman’s eye. “Dinner is in twenty minutes.” She instructed, pointing him towards a door. Janus nodded silently. 

The door swung open silently to reveal a small room with pure white walls, a small twin bed pushed up in the corner, and a dresser against the other wall. A small skylight was on the ceiling, just big enough for someone to fit through. As Janus moved to unpack, he noticed something weird. 

The door only locked from the outside. 

Janus took one look in his backpack before breaking down into sobs. A small, stuffed elephant looked up at him, one of the only memories he had. He had left it in the car, and along with a copy of A Little Princess and his mum’s glasses case, it was the only thing that survived the fire besides him. 

Sometimes he wished that he hadn’t survived. 

He picked up the elephant and cuddled it into his chest, curling on the bed in a fetal position and sobbing loudly. 

Until a sharp pain crossed his burnt cheek and he screamed. 

Janus blinked open his eyes. His burn scars felt like they were on fire again, burning bright for the world to see, a constant reminder that he was different, ugly, gross, unwanted. He looked in shock at Karen, her brown eyes daggers and her hand raised to slap him again. He flinched backwards, whimpering. 

“I said, dinner is in twenty minutes. You didn’t show up. You obviously don’t care.” Karen snapped, straightening(as if she could get any straighter, Janus’s traitorous thoughts whispered)

“Honor your father and your mother. The fifth commandment. In this household, you will follow the laws of God. Or face the consequences.” Karen grabbed Janus by the shirt collar and raised him to her eye level. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes...” Janus’s voice was barely a whisper. He was still in shock. 

“Brat.” She muttered, dropping him harshly. “No dinner for you. Or breakfast, for good measure. And then there’s the matter of these... sins.” She grabbed Janus’s arm harshly, looking in disgust at the snake tattoo, then ripped off his shirt and eyed the heart on his shoulder and the sword on his forearm. “How many of those do you have, boy?” 

“F-five.” 

“Sins. All of them. Polyamorous people go to hell. And why would anyone love a bratty, disobedient child like you? I’ll fix you in time.” Karen slapped Janus’s cheek again before leaving, locking the door behind her.

Janus watched her go before breaking down into quiet sobs, crying softer than ever before for fear of the woman hearing. 

It only got worse from there. 

Janus’s cheek became numb from all of the beatings. He kept the elephant stuffie tucked under his bed and out of sight, in constant fear that Karen would take it away. He got one meal a day at best, and it was usually cold chicken. He didn’t eat with Karen, who claimed she “didn’t want to look at his face”. On Sunday she forced him into a suit and tie. A uniform ten-year old, going to church and listening to a pastor preach for hours every weekend, about stuff he didn’t understand and doubted he ever would. School wasn’t much better. He was constantly bullied and ridiculed for his scars, for his soul marks. He never talked unleaded forced to. His grades had to be above a ninety-eight in every class, or else he would be locked in his room for days on end. Days passed, then months, than years, all in constant fear of Karen beating him, or starving him, or locking him in his room. He outgrew his clothes and only wore uniform black shirts and khakis. He stayed in the back of the classroom, never talking, never contributing. Everyone was a threat. What if he said the wrong thing, and his teacher slapped him like Karen and his bullies and even his demons did? What if he tried to fight back and failed more than ever before? What if his grades slipped and he was tortured for weeks? 

His only sanctuary was art. 

Early on in middle school, his art teacher, Mr. Williams, has recognized Janus’s talent for art. He had requested that the teenager be moved into a class during lunch every other weekday. He would let Janus do whatever he wanted, as long as it made use of creativity. Draw? Go for it. Paint? Ruin the canvas. Spraypaint? Graffiti the walls. Collage? Print out any images you want. Pottery? Here’s an apron. Knitting? Knock yourself out. Aluminum foil sculptures? Take all the Reynold’s Wrap. And duct tape. Duct tape was almost always essential. 

Janus could almost forget about the harshness of the world, the pain of losing his moms, the torture of walking home each day, the scars that grew every night, the fact that he was starving in his own home. All that he could see was the stroke of the brush on the canvas, dragging a pencil across the paper, the way the clay moved under his touch. Mr. Williams didn’t treat him differently. He just let the child express his pain, all of the bottled-up feelings inside, through art. 

As long as Janus had Mr. Williams, life was, at the very least, bearable.


	4. Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Genderbent Roman, a little bit of dysphoria, accidental misgendering and use of deadname, platonic creativitwins, fear of rejection, this isn’t as good as my other chapters.

Ramona was confused. 

She didn’t... feel right. In her body.

Her chest was too big. Her hair was too long. She had never liked to wear dresses or short shorts or skinny jeans or crop tops or high heels. Her wardrobe consisted of mostly sweatpants, baggy jeans, Disney/musical theater t-shirts, and sweatshirts. 

It was currently one am. She was on google. “I don’t feel right in my body” she typed. All she got were some web pages about various sicknesses and the national suicide hotline. 

“Why do I feel weird” had nearly the same result. As well as “I don’t feel right”, “my body feels like it’s not mine” and “why don’t I feel right in my body”. 

After an hour, her search history was filled with dozens of failed attempts. 

She groaned, shutting off her phone. Why do I feel weird? Why don’t I belong?

She shouldn’t feel this way. She had a near-perfect life. Her dad and mom were caring. Her grandpa was rich. She had always gone to a private school. She was popular, with lots of friends. She had even seen Hamilton on Broadway with the original cast. She didn’t deserve to feel this way. 

And yet she did. 

More than anything... Ramona wanted to change. She wanted to be able to take off her shirt without boys staring. She had known for years that she never wanted to be a mother. The very idea of.... doing that with another person was weird to her when she had no idea what that human would be like, plus the unnecessary pain of childbirth was a no-no. 

And since she had five soulmates, who knew? Her fingers glided across the storm cloud on her forearm, traveling slowly to the book on her shoulder. She sighed.

Why don’t I feel like a girl?

Curious, she typed the question into the google search bar. 

The responses lit up her mind. 

Of course. 

Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

What if....

What if she was transgender?

The female label she had worn her whole life had never seemed to fit quite right. Her eyes widened and she ran to her and her twin brother’s shared bathroom. 

Looking at herself in the mirror, it just made so much more sense. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that she may or may not have stolen from her brother. Her hair was just longer than shoulder length but she always wore it up, the feeling of long hair constantly brushing her neck bothered her. She had never really been super concerned about the way she looked. Looking back, she had always been sort of a tomboy. 

“She got the main role in the play” didn’t quite feel right. 

Neither did “They got the main role in the play.” 

“He got the main role in the play.” The words slipped from Ramona’s mouth easily. 

And she- no, he had never felt more right, in his entire life. 

He pulled an all-nighter, spending hours looking up male names that started with R. And the next afternoon, he impulsively hacked off his hair until it was resting messily in a boyish cut. 

It was the best thing he had ever felt. 

Roman was angry. 

But also scared. 

He had been in the closet for weeks now, and every time his parents or his brother misgendered him... it hurt. Even though it wasn’t intentional, and technically his fault for not coming out... it reminded him that he was still biologically female. 

Until one day he slipped. 

“Ramona! Did you know that dork means whale penis?” 

Roman winced, sighing. “I didn’t need to.”

Remus barged into his room. “I called Joan a whale penis... you should’ve seen their face!” He gasped, laughing so hard he doubled over. 

“Great.” Roman muttered, closing his eyes. 

That was a mistake. Remus looked offended for a second before he came over, snapping his fingers in Roman’s face. “Ramona? Earth to Ramona!”

“Not Ramona.” The words slipped out of Roman’s mouth before he could stop them. 

Remus blinked. “What?”

Roman winced, sitting up. No backing out now. “M-My name’s not Ramona. It’s Roman. I’m trans.”

“Oh.” Remus blinked. “Well then, Roman, you’re the best brother I could’ve asked for!” He smiled, scooting closer. 

Roman blinked, tears filling his eyes. He’d been so afraid that he would be rejected, or made fun of, or purposely misgendered, but it seemed that that wasn’t the case. Overcome with emotion, he flung himself at Remus and wrapped his arms around him, crying tears of joy. “Oh.” Remus said in surprise, slowly returning the hug. “This is new.” 

“I love you.” Roman whispered, hugging him close. 

Remus smiled. “I love you too, Roman.”


	5. Wait for It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Totallyyyyy not inspired by a Hamilton song shhhh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depressed snek boiii, Suicidal thoughts, almost attempted suicide, Karen mentions, religious language, crying, mentions of misgendering

Janus curled up on their bed, clutching their elephant stuffie tightly. They probably shouldn’t be doing this, as they were in their junior year of college, and Karen could come in any moment. 

Weak. Pathetic. Failure. 

A shaky breath echoed through the room. Their cheek still stung. No one noticed the scars on their wrist. Why can’t you just make any effort at all to belong? To listen to Karen? She’s right, you know. You’re a disappointment and a failure. Your entire existence is a sin. Your soul marks are flaws. You are a flaw. No one could ever love you. Will ever love you. 

Janus had failed even more. They had come to the realization that they were most definitely not male. Or female. They didn’t want to conform to the gender binary at all. After all, gender was just a social construct, an abstract concept created by society, one of the biggest lies known to humankind. 

They shook off their traitorous thoughts, quickly replaced by their everyday reminders that they were a mistake. Unlovable. Weak. Sin. 

Janus became aware of the need to protect themself. To build up a wall. Never let anybody in. 

Words only seemed to hurt. So he stopped talking. And if he was forced to, he would lie. Let a single word, usually a yes or a no, fall from his lips, honey dripping from his tone. 

“Are you ok?” A nod. 

“Do you need help?” A shake of the head. 

“Are you hungry?” Another negative. 

“Are you tired?” No.

“Are you sure?” Another nod. 

It got to the point where they didn’t know what was true anymore. Everything they said and did was a lie in some way. Nobody would notice or care if he disappeared. If he flipped open the latch to the tiny skylight above his head, wiggled through, and let gravity take hold. The roof was thirty feet off the ground. A fatal height. 

Do it. No one cares. No one loves you. Weak. Pathetic. Mistake. Error. Mutant. Monster.

The scars on their cheek burned hotter than when they had first got them. Impulsively, they stood up on their bed and reached up, their fingers brushing the latch on the skylight. It flicked open. Karen seemed to forget that she had another person living in her house. Janus shuddered, remembering the hours of church they had had to endure, forced to pretend that Karen cared, that they hadn’t lost their moms, that everything was alright when it wasn’t. When it had never been. They gripped the sides of the skylight and hoisted themselves up, crawling up to the roof. The edge was mere feet away. They curled their toes and prepared to let go.

But something stopped them.

The sun.

It was setting in the distance, carelessly throwing beans of red and yellow and orange across the deep once-blue sky. Puffy clouds drifted aimlessly. It was like a painting. Like the art class Janus had never once forgotten, had skipped so many lunches for. A constant, like so many things in life. Something that never seemed to change, no matter how much the world fell apart around them.

Janus barked a small laugh, torn painfully from their throat. Tears dripped down their cheeks. No matter what happened, the sun would always rise and set. The moon would always wane and wax. The Earth would keep spinning. The seasons would keep changing. There would still be rain on some days, sun on others. And there was the cruelest constant of all: the soul marks dotting their skin. Their hand drifted once again over the tattoos that had caused them so much pain.

They wanted nothing more than to rip them off their skin. But that was impossible. People had tried before. It never worked. 

But maybe there was hope. 

After all, Janus only had to survive a couple more years in this hellhole. Then they would be free. Free to chase their dreams. Free to hop on Karen’s bike and pedal until they couldn’t feel their legs, until they were as far away from her as possible. Far from soul marks, destiny, people, society. Where they could be left to their own devices. They had never really cared much for humanity. After all, it had taken everything from them. 

Janus dropped back down into their room and closed the skylight. They stuffed the elephant plush under their bed.

And they kept going. 

Day after day, they remained silent. They let Karen punch them and kick them and slap them and misgender them. They got bullied and pushed around and hurt but they kept hoping and dreaming and holding their plans close to their chest.

They waited. And waited. And waited. They were the only thing in life they could control. They knew that they would never be loved. Could never be loved. 

But they kept trying and hoping and dreaming nonetheless. 

Until one day they came home and Karen wasn’t there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: none :)

To say that Patton Hart was odd would be an understatement. 

He was genderfluid, panromantic, polyamorous, and asexual. He was bubbly, cheery, and extroverted. He had accepted everyone as his child. And to top it all off, five soul marks dotted his skin, more than he or anyone around him had ever seen. 

And yet, everyone loved him for it. His school was a very accepting environment. He was basically friends with everyone. He was pretty popular, but literally the nicest person you could ever meet. 

It was near the end of his junior year of high school that his world flipped. 

As a member of the student council, he was a student ambassador, which meant that he would help new students, mainly freshmen, ease into the change in schools by giving them a tour and leading them to their classes and everything. Today was a little different. He was assigned a junior. Just like him. 

As he waited, a little anxiously, he trailed his fingers along the grey book tattoo on his palm, letting them travel to the sword on his forearm. He couldn't help but wonder when he would meet them. His soulmates.

It wasn't like he was impatient.... well, it might've been a little of that. But that was a given. He had five soulmates! Shouldn't he have met at least one by now? He couldn't help the twinge of sadness that pinged his heart when he saw his two friends, Jade and Emma, pass by, their hands intertwined and swinging between them. The pair had met each other when they were only in preschool, and had been together ever since. The bright red rose tattoo blooming on Jade's neck was proof of that.

Emma's bright laugh rang through the air. "Patton! You coming?" 

Patton shook of the sadness. It's fine. You'll meet them someday. He told himself. "Yep!" 

A few minutes later, he pushed open the door to the office, where a kid with framed glasses and a blue tie was sitting next to one of the student counselors, Mrs. Riar. 

She looked up, smiling gratefully. "Patton! There you are. Meet Logan." 

As soon as the name was said, Patton felt himself jolt with a new sensation. It didn't... hurt, exactly. It was more like the feeling you got when your leg fell asleep, and it was almost numb, but there was that small, almost irritating tingle that shot through your veins when you moved. Amplified by a thousand, just enough so that it was edging on pain, but not quite. And then their was the inexplainable warmth that started at his right hand and moved through his veins like wildfire, spreading throughout his entire body. 

Patton gasped, his eyes on the book tattoo that was inked into his palm. It was nearly glowing, shining in a beautiful shade of deep blue. His eyes traveled upwards to meet the new kid, Logan's. Their eyes were widened in shock.

"Is something wrong?" Mrs. Riar's concerned voice broke the silence. 

Patton blinked. Without a word, he turned his right palm towards the sky, letting her see the glimmering blue that now adorned his skin.

"Oh." She looked at it for a second, before glancing at Logan. They blinked, turning their neck to show a now bright blue heart, inked into their skin. 

Mrs. Riar smiled. "Well, congratulations! Patton, meet Logan. Your soulmate." 

Patton blinked. What do you even say in this kind of situation? He was overcome with joy and anticipation and excitement. "Um.... hi!" He extended a hand for Logan to shake. 

Still a little shook, Logan shook Patton's hand. "Salutations."

Mrs. Riar grinned. "Since this is a... special case, I'll sign a form for you to both be released from school early. Get to know each other." 

Patton smiled. He was finally meeting them. His soulmate. 

A few minutes later, he was talking to Logan easily, words falling out of his mouth quicker than rain falling from a cloud. "How is your day? Mine's going great. Even better since I met you? Hey, do you like guys? And girls? And everyone? Because I'm genderfluid so on some days I could be your girlfriend and some days I'd be your boyfriend. Oh gosh I'm sorry did I just make things super awkward? I did, didn't I? I'm sorry..." he trailed off, smiling excitedly. "I'm just excited that I finally met you!"

"Likewise." Logan replied awkwardly, shooting Patton a small smile. 

Patton led him to his car after texting his dads about Logan. "Where do you want to go?" 

"Anywhere is fine. I just moved here, and I don't really know my way around, so lead the way." Logan said. Patton grinned. "Do you want to go to the park? It doesn't have to be a date or anything. It can be a platonic, get-to-know-each-other sort of thing. If you want. Not that I would mind it being a date or anything." He added quickly.

A small smile curled on Logan's face. "Either works." He said quietly. 

A grin spread across Patton's face. "Perfect."

Ten minutes later, they were walking down a winding path, leaves crunching under their feet. Patton was smiling and making small talk, an almost contagious grin on his face, as Logan listened to the musical sound of his voice. Patton hesitantly brushed his fingers against Logan's. He smiled and intertwined their hands. Logan pointed out a bird, sitting on the branch above the pair. Patton watched in awe, giggling softly as it flapped to another tree. 

They sat on a bench, not really talking, just enjoying the fresh air, stealing quick glances at each other. They never stopped holding hands. Somehow Patton ended up leaning on Logan's shoulder. 

Almost half an hour later, Logan broke the silence. "Do you... also have five tattoos?" 

Patton hesitated a little before answering. "...yes. I hadn't met any of them before today, though."

"This might be a little weird, but..." Logan hesitated. "Can I touch them?"

Patton blinked before smiling softly. "Sure!" He turned his hand over again to show Logan the shining blue book tattoo in his palm. "That's you." He whispered, smiling. 

Logan grazed his hands over Patton's skin as he shifted to show Logan the other arm. "There's a sword right here." He pointed out his forearm, where a sword with some sort of red scarf, imprinted with a golden emblem, wrapping around it loosely.

"I have the same one on my leg..." Logan murmured.

Patton grinned. "I have a storm cloud on my lower stomach, right here." He placed a hand on the right side of his stomach. 

"Like this?" Logan showed him the back of his hand, where a puffy grey cloud with a lightning bolt coming out of it was inked into his skin. Patton nodded. "Yep. I have a heart on my hip, just like the one on your neck, and a snake wrapping around my lower leg. 

Logan turned his neck to show off the bright blue heart tattoo, then showed his forearm to Patton. A snake was curling around his right forearm. 

They locked eyes.

"We have the same soulmates." Patton whispered. That had been one of his main fears. That he would meet five amazing people, one by one, and they would all die and be replaced with another, over and over again, slowly ripping his heart to shreds. That most definitely wasn't the case. A huge grin spread across his face and he leaned into Logan, wrapping an arm around his torso. Logan grinned and rested his head on top of Patton's. 

A couple of minutes later, Patton shifted. "It's almost five, Logie. I have to go home." 

"So do I." Logan murmured. "You could drive me back to the school and I could walk home. It's only a couple of blocks."

"I'll just drive you home. It'll be easier." Patton smiled, pulling Logan up. Logan told him his address. 

A few minutes later, Patton pulled the car up beside Logan's house. "Well, see you tomorrow."

Logan smiled and started to make his way up to the front door, before stopping. "Wait. One more thing." 

"What?" Patton asked, curious. 

Swiftly, Logan turned around and pressed a small kiss to Patton's lips, smiling. Patton kissed back immediately, cupping his cheek. Logan smiled into the kiss, leaning into Patton, before breaking away and handing him a slip of paper with a phone number on it. "See you tomorrow." He winked, opening the front door and walking inside. 

Patton stood there for a good thirty seconds, smiling and grinning at the front door after him. He had only known Logan for a day, and he was already head-over-heels.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is written by someone who is biologically female and genderfluid, not ftm transgender, and has no experience writing the topic, so I’m sorry if some of the experiences aren’t described correctly. 
> 
> TW: Swearing, God’s name used in vain, mentions of homophobes and homophobic slurs, mentions of not being accepted, mentions of purposeful misgendering, REALLY rushed chapter, ooc Remus and Remy, bad writing

Roman was, finally, accepted for who he was, a prideful bisexual, transgender. and polyamorous man with a passion for art, music, theater, and writing. His new room had a transgender flag tacked to the wall above the bed, a polyamorous clip pinned to the small bulletin board next to his bed, and he had taken it upon himself to paint his closet door magenta, blue, and purple to represent his sexuality. In his junior year of high school, he had moved across the country with his family, and he couldn’t be happier. Finally, he was away from the homophobic slurs and misgenering of his former school, away from the toxic friends and disgusting girls who tried to rip off his binder and reveal his female parts. He had been on testosterone for almost a year now, and was saving up for top surgery once he was 18. While the dysphoria was terrifying, he had a binder, a supporting brother, and loving, accepting parents. And now he went to a school that accepted him no matter who he was, what he wore, how many soulmarks he had, or what was in his pants. 

It was, in all honesty, beautiful. 

And it only got better.

On his sixth or seventh day in his new school, he felt himself drawn to the pair of students who were sitting by themselves, two tables over. Not only because they were both openly gay and clearly soulmates, but also because earlier that day, Roman had caught a glimpse of a farmiliar-looking tattoo on the shorter boy’s neck. So, being the gayforward man that he was, he moved to sit at their table. 

Neither of them really noticed when he sat down across from them, setting his styrofoam lunch tray on the smooth table. One was tall and bubbly, with a streak of pink in his short, curly hair, a spray of freckles dotting his cheeks, and glasses framing his amber orbs. He wore a loose tan jacket over a pale pink shirt and khakis. The other boy wore a black leather jacket, sunglasses, and a white shirt with a Starbucks logo on it. He was sipping iced coffee from a plastic cup while engaging in a heated discussion about cats with his boyfriend. But what caught Roman’s eye was a familiar black-and-white octopus tattoo coiled on his neck. Roman had seen it many times before, as well as the shiny gold star on the back of the taller one’s hand.

He cleared his throat. “Hi! I’m Roman.”

The taller one looked up, blinking before grinning and holding out a hand for Roman to shake. “Hi! I’m Emile, and this is Remy.” 

Roman shook his hand. Remy smiled and shook his hand as well, but Roman couldn’t help but notice that he was staring at the grey storm cloud tattoo on his forearm. He shrugged it off as merely curiosity. After all, it was insanely rare that someone like him would come along, someone with five tattoos inked into their skin. “I would try to make small talk, but truth be told, I’m curious about the tattoo on your neck there.” He gestured at Remy’s neck. 

“Oh. Is it because you also have more then one soulmate?” Emile asked, confused a little as to why Roman was being so gayforward. 

Roman inhaled a small breath through his nose. “No. It’s because my brother has the same one on his forearm.”

Emile started and Remy stared at Roman. “W-what?” Emile struggled to speak through his obvious shock.

Roman locked eyes with him. “I think my brother is your soulmate.”

Remy turned to his boyfriend, setting his coffee down on the table. Emile met his eyes and gave a small nod. 

“Can you take us to him?”

Roman checked his watch. Ten minutes left of lunch. He glanced around, quickly spotting Remus laughing and chatting with his friend at another table. “Yeah. C’mon.”

As he led the pair to his brother, he could almost feel Emile buzzing with excitement. Remy was still in shock. Remus saw his brother coming and grinned, a wide smile splitting his face. Ever since Roman had come out to him, he had been the most supporting and helpful twin ever. In fact, Roman was wearing one of his old shirts right now. Washed many times, of course. 

“Remus!” He called to his twin, getting more excited with every step.

“Yeah, Princey?” Roman rolled his eyes at the nickname. It was a play on both his last name and his odd, seemingly regal manner. Not to say that he minded it. In fact, the gender-specific nickname helped keep him grounded.

“I’ve got some friends I want you to meet.” Roman grinned.

“Ooh, how fun? Who?” Remus snarked, knowing full well that the odd tone annoyed his twin.

“Remus, meet Remy and Emile.” Roman smirked, bringing the other two forward. 

As soon as the names were said, all three of them stiffened, their eyes glazing over for a millisecond. They stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do. Roman watched, mesmerized, as the grey star tattoo on Remus’s cheek slowly melted into another color altogether, bright, metallic gold. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Remus whispered, locking eyes with Remy, glancing over at Emile. 

They stared at each other for a second. Roman was suddenly aware that everyone around them had quieted. For an infinite moment, the lunchroom was completely silent. 

And then Remus stood up, determination glinting in his eyes. He took two long strides and smashed his lips against Remy’s in a messy, passionate first kiss. Emile leaned in to press his lips against Remus’s cheek, embracing him. Three soulmates, forever connected to each other, intertwined by the strings of fate, had finally come together, fit like puzzle pieces. It looked so... right. A perfect fit. A beautiful thing. 

The lunchroom around them erupted into cheers. Roman grinned widely, glad his brother had finally found his home. 

But his feelings of happiness couldn’t help but be tinged with loneliness and jealousy. He was sixteen. He had five soulmates. Yet, he hadn’t met even one of them yet. 

And now that Remus had found his loves, nothing would ever be the same again.


	8. Words can Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: cutting mention, abuse mention, mention of homophobes/transphobes/misgendering, implied panic attack, new POV? Damn.

For the third time that week, Janus wasn’t wearing a button shirt and khakis. 

It had been so long that they had forgotten what it felt like to wear a hoodie, the warmth and comfort the soft fabric provided completely leaving their memory. Before the fourth semester of their junior year, they were still with Karen. Still trapped in that tiny room, with the too-small bed, the creaky skylight, and the suffocating walls. Still waking up at five every morning to make breakfast for themself and for her, and enduring the painful sting of a palm smacking against their burnt cheek. Still going to school with growing scars each morning. Still closing their eyes as she had grabbed their arm and twisted it to reveal the soulmarks forever inked into their skin. Still enduring the constant misgendering. It had never stopped, not even when they had tried to come out at school. She had instilled fear in Janus. They never talked. Not when anything they said could potentially be sinful and earn them a painful scrape of sharp fingernails across their burnt cheek. They knew that they were a sin. A mistake. That they deserved to die. 

And yet Janus had kept going until that cloudy late-April day when they had come home to an empty kitchen. Deprived of a cell phone, they had had no choice but to wait. 

The police found them curled up on their bed, shaking and having a panic attack. 

And here they were, three weeks later, waiting on the couch to meet their potential new parents. 

As in they were waiting to meet the new, straight, homophobic and transphobic pair who would misgender him and hit him and stare at his soul marks in disgust and ignore the ever-growing scars on their wrists and remind them constantly that they were a mistake, a sin, a burden, a freak. 

However, there was only a couple of years until they could leave. Pack their bags and get away from it all. They knew that they deserved the hits, the marks, the scars, the bruises. 

Yet if they left they could escape their torture. Cheat at the game of life, so to speak. 

Janus had never been scared of a little cheating. 

Their mind wandered, as it always had, to their mothers. They didn’t remember much of them, only that they would cradle Janus in their arms, hold them close, protect them. Back when they still thought they were male, when they had Remy, when their cheek was still smooth, when they weren’t constantly bullied for having five tattoos. 

Maybe these parents would be like that. 

But Janus knew, deep down, that they probably wouldn’t. 

Jon swallowed, nervously twisting the golden band on his ring finger. It was finally happening. Jesus Christ, he’d waited so long. 

After years of paperwork, discussion, evaluation, and anticipation, he might actually become a father. 

He was more anxious than he thought he would be. He knew what the child’s name was, and what he’d looked like. He knew that him and Thomas would be their third set of foster parents. He knew that they had five soul marks dotting their skin, more than anyone he had ever met. He knew that they had been with an uncaring, homophobic women for years now, and that they refused to talk to anyone. A chosen mute. He knew all that and more. He also knew that him and Thomas were ready. They had been preparing for years. 

So then why was he so nervous?

He was broken out of his thought spiral by a comforting hand gently gripping his. “Hey.” Jon looked up to meet the deep brown eyes and small, comforting grin of his husband Thomas. “It’ll be alright. We’re ready.” 

“I know....” Jon trailed off, his fingers brushing along Thomas’s wrist where a pale pink flower tattoo was permanently inked. “I’m just anxious.” 

“Tell me about it.” Thomas murmured, trailing his hand up to the matching flower tattoo on Jon’s forearm. 

“Mr. Sanders? Mr. Cozart? Are you ready to meet Janus?” 

Jon took a deep breath, giving his love a soft smile. “As I’ll ever be.” 

The first thing Janus noticed when the two men walked into the room was that they were, well, men.

What? 

To say that they were shocked would be an understatement. This couple was the very thing that Karen has hated most: gay. 

They knew, at the very least, that these two weren’t homophobic. They could be transphobic, but Janus was starting to doubt that. 

Could they actually be... accepted for who they were in this family? 

No. You don’t deserve to be accepted. You don’t deserve to be loved and held close and cherished. 

Maybe not. 

But they wanted to all the same.


	9. Fourth Wheeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: death mentions, funeral mentions, swearing, crying mentions, cliffhanger hehe

Roman was third-wheeling. 

Actually, more like fourth wheeling. He was sitting in shotgun, giving Remus directions to the arcade where him, Remy, and Emile were going for a date. 

But he was more excited than anyone really should be when they were fourth-wheeling. Remy’s words from a couple of weeks ago rang through his head. 

“I think I know... well, knew, two of your soulmates.”

They had been waiting in the car for Remus and Emile, outside their high school. Remy had blinked at the storm cloud tattoo on his forearm and told him about a kid he had known in preschool and early elementary school named Janus. They had been best friends. One of Remy’s distinct memories was of Janus running up to a girl he had known that had been bullying them, calling her a bitch, and running away laughing, Remy by his side. Another memory was of the storm cloud tattoo that peeked out from his right shoe, half-hidden by his sock. The third memory was going to Janus’s moms’ funeral and looking in desperation at the little nine-year old in the used black sweatshirt and jeans, his face scarred beyond repair, staring ahead in silence and refusing to talk to anyone, not even Remy. 

That had been the last time Remy had seen him. Almost eight years ago.

Both Remy and Roman were tearing up at this point in the story. Roman couldn’t believe that his maybe/soulmate had had to go through that, and that he had had to move away, away from his only friend, away from his school, away from everything he had ever known. 

Remy was going to tell him about the other person he knew with five tattoos, but Remus and Emile had came out of the school by that point and it was too awkward to talk. 

Roman hadn’t had time alone with Remy since. 

And now, here he was, pulling into the parking lot of an arcade. Maybe, just maybe, Remy would be able to tell him about this “other soulmate” today. The curiosity had been burning inside him for weeks, a powerful flame that could only be quenched by knowledge, burning bright and insistent, impossible to ignore. 

He walked into the arcade with a smile on his face. 

Remus greeted Remy and Emile with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. Roman adverted his eyes, as always. What he had failed to notice was that Remy was grinning at him, and that there was a small, inconspicuous boy sitting at the table next to him, hunched back in his black and purple plaid hoodie, listening to emo music and absorbed in Tumblr.

Remus smirked as well, locking eyes with Remy. “Hey Ro, I want you to meet someone.”

Roman looked up. “What?” He locked eyes with the boy, someone he had never seen before, and was instantly mesmerized by his big brown orbs and the dark smudges under his eyes. 

Remy grinned. “Roman, meet my cousin Virgil.”


	10. Arcade Bathroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: swearing, making out, g note, God’s name used in vain

Virgil didn’t want to be here. 

Sitting in an arcade, in public, trying to make himself as small as possible, he wished he could disappear into his hoodie and never come out. He tried to absorb himself in Tumblr, but his anxiety levels were spiking. As always, whenever he was in public, he felt like everyone was staring at him, their eyes boring into his back, judging him, marking his flaws, ridiculing him for being sad and emo and different, having five soulmarks when everyone around him had two. 

But then he remembered that he had brought his headphones. 

With a quiet sigh of relief, he pulled the familiar black wireless headphones over his ears, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He clicked shuffle on his favorite playlist. 

Just his luck that ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ came first, the fabled G-Note ringing in his ears. He smiled a little, his expert fingers tapping out the beat on his lap, playing an invisible keyboard one second and fingering guitar chords the next. 

He looked up to see Remy passionately kissing another boy, one he had only seen pictures of. That had to be Remus, Remy’s other soulmate, and Virgil immediately took note of the insane amount of chaotic energy he radiated.

He was about to continue scrolling through Tumblr when he noticed the other boy. 

He was looking around inconspicuously, obviously bored, his hair swept carelessly behind an ear. He had deep brown eyes, long eyelashes, and a trans pride pin pinned to his shirt.

There was something... mesmerizing about him. Something enchanting about the nonchalant way he looked around, his eyes everywhere except for Remus making out with Emile. He moved closer to Remy in a move to casual to be anything but painstakingly deliberate. 

And then Remy was grinning at him and took the headphones off his head. Virgil almost hissed but remembered that he was in public. “Sssssstop.” He yanked the wireless sanctuaries back and hung them around his neck. 

And then he looked up and he was locking eyes with the boy, trapped in his dark brown gaze, just staring into his orbs and wondering how and why he got here and why his cheeks were flushing and why this just felt so right-

“Roman... meet my cousin, Virgil.” Remy smirked.

As soon as his name fell from Remy’s lips Virgil was caught like a deer in the headlights, staring in disbelief. An almost-painful tingly sensation bloomed in his left forearm, spreading like wildfire throughout his whole body. It was wildfire, in a sense, warmth and heat rushing over him in a sudden wave, a sea of silk caressing his skin. It was cool and hot all at once, flowing through him and around him and inside him, piercing his very soul. 

Virgil blinked in disbelief and yanked up his hoodie sleeve. There, imprinted permanently on his forearm, was a golden sword, with a rose emblem on the hilt and a red ribbon flowing freely around the blade. 

He didn’t really know what to say. He glanced up at Roman, then down at the deep purple storm cloud tattoo on his arm. Shock was apparent on both of their faces. 

“Holy shit.” Roman whispered softly. 

And then Roman slowly walked up to him and gripped his hand, leaving room for Virgil to push him away if he wanted to. Instead Virgil went freely, following Roman through the arcade to the boy’s bathroom, letting him lock the door behind them. He was still in disbelief. He had finally found him. One of his soulmates. 

And holy fuck he was hot. 

Roman locked eyes with Virgil, breathless and shocked. “Virgil.” The usually passionate but now speechless boy murmured his soulmate’s name. 

“Roman.” Virgil whispered. The name felt so right on his tongue, echoing through the empty bathroom. The name of one of his soulmates. One of his other parts. One that was connected to him by fate. 

Roman was infinitely closer now, cupping Virgil’s cheek gently, his lips mere inches away. “Can I kiss you?” The soft, breathless whisper, desperate, fell from Roman’s lips. And after years upon years upon years upon years of waiting and wondering and wishing and pondering and questioning, Virgil could only nod.

“Hell yes.”

And then their lips melded together, hungry and desperate and passionate but also somehow sweet and loving, a mess of lips and hands and arms wrapping around each other, pressed against one another, kissing one another for all it was worth. Years upon years of built up emotion, mystery and anticipation, feeling and wanting, exploding in a passionate mess of a first makeout session. Roman gently pressed Virgil against the wall, his lips contradicting this action as they devoured Virgil, and Virgil’s hand clinging to Roman, his legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he returned the gesture, kissing Roman for all he was worth. He didn’t use tongue, not just yet, but instead he pressed closer, his chest nearly flush with Roman’s. And Roman was one hell of a good kisser. Lips and hands everywhere at once, cupping his cheek and fingering at his sharp hipbone, pulling him closer still and pouring everything he had into the connection of their lips. 

Eventually their lips disconnected but they returned to one another just as quickly, both of them completely and utterly enraptured by the intense feeling of their lips on the other’s. Virgil was pretty sure he could die happy in this moment, the joy and passion and fire and love swirling and soaring in him, sparks zinging up and down his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. The passionate, intense way that Roman showed his love was a heaven for Virgil, pressed against him, completely and utterly speechless at the force with which he was being kissed, but returning the affection willingly and earnestly. 

Finally, they broke apart long enough to speak. 

“Wow. That was... wow.” Virgil breathed, looking Roman directly in the eye, well aware of the danger of becoming lost in the sea of Roman’s beautiful deep brown orbs. And God, he had only known him for maybe twenty minutes but he had already fallen head over heels for this beautiful man, grinning down at him and cradling him in his arms. Virgil smiled softly. 

“My God, you’re hot.” Roman whispered. “And cute. At the same time. How does that work?” 

Virgil scoffed. “You’re an idiot, Princey. You’re obviously the hot one here.”

“While I’m not saying you’re wrong, you’re literally the hottest person I’ve ever seen. So shut it, Emo Nightmare.” 

Virgil cuddled into Roman’s chest, smiling softly. “You shut up, Princey.”

“Make me.” 

It was only logical that their lips would meet again in a passionate, romantic kiss, the kind you read about in fanfiction, much like the cliché trope that had just come to pass. And Jesus Christ, Virgil could get used to the feeling of Roman’s lips on his. They fit together perfectly. After all, they were soulmates. 

Virgil and Roman didn’t fourth-and-fifth-wheel in Remy, Emile, and Remus’s date like they had previously thought. Instead the trip to the arcade became a double date. Roman threatened to leave Virgil after he lost the skee-ball competition they had, but Virgil just rolled his eyes, pressed him up against the pac-man machine, and kissed him passionately.

Yeah, he had definitely fallen hard.


	11. Never be Afraid to be Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Crying

This was the first time Janus had been to a Target in years. 

They hid inside their hoodie, flinching away from the world around them. However, nobody gave them much notice as they walked alongside Thomas and Jon. They supposed that their long hair and the beanie they wore to hide their scars slightly made them inconspicuous, and nobody could see his arms through the sleeves of his black hoodie. 

Jon smiled softly at Janus. “You don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to, Janus. Take your time. Pick whatever you want to decorate your room.”

Janus blinked. It still came as a surprise to them that they got to have control over what they wore, what they ate, and what they used to decorate. Hesitantly, they ventured into an aisle. 

Their eyes took in all of the art supplies around them, the sketchbooks and canvases and paints and pencils and brushes, familiar to them in a way nothing else was. The colors that they had spattered across a blank canvas, showing their emotions not in words but in actions, the color permanently staining the white. They liked the feeling of changing something in their life when they had felt so powerless. Even if it was just a canvas. 

“You want some art supplies?” Thomas was suddenly standing next to Janus, giving them a small smile. Janus blinked. This could be theirs? They could still paint and draw and create?

Hesitantly they reached out and examined a small, inexpensive sketchbook. It was cheap and didn’t have very good quality paper by the looks of it. 

Thomas saw his gaze. “You can pick a different one if you want. That one doesn’t look very good.”

Janus was shocked. They knew they didn’t deserve a better sketchbook than this. In fact, they didn’t deserve any of this. No new parents, no art supplies, no happiness. 

Despite this, they reached out and grabbed a bigger sketchbook, with high-quality paper and lots of sheets. Jon smiled and let them put it in the cart. 

Soon they were walking out of the aisle with a couple of canvases, acrylic paints, and colored pencils. Thomas grinned at him and Janus even let a small, genuine smile cross his face before he sunk back into his emotionless stoic. 

Thirty minutes later nothing really interesting was added to the cart, just essentials like shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and deodorant. Jon smiled wider when Janus discreetly added a ‘Could be Gayer’ sweatshirt to the cart and reeled his husband in from looking at Disney merchandise, giving him a reproachful look but also laughing and quickly kissing his cheek.

They were almost ready to leave when something black, yellow, white and purple caught their eye. 

Jon and Thomas were making sure everything was organized, and Janus quickly ducked into the next aisle. 

Suddenly they were surrounded by all of the colors of the rainbow, dozens of different miniature pride flags on the shelves. Janus stared in wonder at the sight. They had never thought that any store would sell pride items, let alone the assortment of flags representing different sexualities and gender identities staring at them. 

Of course they were drawn to the non-binary pride flag, approaching it hesitantly. Their fingertips brushed the yellow, black, purple and white stripes that represented them, represented their identity, part of their very soul. 

....it felt so right in their hands. 

“Janus?” Suddenly Jon’s voice sounded from behind them. They flinched backwards instantly, curling their arms in on themself, backing away from the traitorous colors that marked them even more distant from everyone else, with their scarred face and their five soulmarks and now this alternative gender identity. Now you’ve done it and they hate you and you’ll never be accepted and-

“Hey Janus?” Thomas smiled and met Janus’s eyes. “Know that me and Jon always accept you and support you, no matter what your identity is or what you look like or how many tattoos you have.”

“Always.” Jon agreed, smiling softly. “We’re going to do our best to be the best parents we can be. Every single person deserves to have loving and accepting parents. You are no different. This,” he held up the small non-binary pride flag, “doesn’t change how much we care about you. It never will.”

Janus looked up, their eyes filled with tears. They couldn’t believe it. For the first time in their life they could see the light at the end of the tunnel, an end to the misgendering and abuse and hitting. 

Without hesitation they sobbed in happiness, throwing themself into Thomas’s arms. Thomas was a little startled but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms gently around his child and pull Jon in as well. It had been so long since Janus had been touched and held close and cradled and cared for and loved, and they had missed it more than they could ever have expressed as they hugged Thomas tightly, never wanting to let go. 

A couple of minutes later they broke apart and Thomas handed them the non-binary pride flag. “Never be afraid to be prideful, Janus.”

Janus looked up and met his eyes, turning to look at Jon as well. For the first time in months, they let themself come out from inside their cocoon. 

“Thank you.” Their voice whispered. 

Jon’s grin was somehow wider as he handed Janus a large non-binary pride flag.


	12. Honeybee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Feelings(ewwwww)

Logan bit his lip, refreshing his email for what must’ve been the fiftieth time that day. He had been hoping and waiting and pondering for what felt like years but had really only been a couple of days. He was certain that the results were going to come today, and although he was almost one hundred percent sure he had passed, the irrational part of him was still figuratively screaming in his brain that all of the effort and anticipation had been for nothing, that he had failed. 

Sighing and bouncing his leg a little in anticipation, he reloaded the page again. 

And blinked. 

And gasped. 

And widened his eyes. 

And dragged the mouse to click on the new unread message from Sanders College(might change the name later idk). 

“Patton!” He called, his voice more high-pitched and excited than he’d like to admit.

His soulmate poked her head into the room a few moments later and instantly ran over to him when she saw that Logan had his email open. “Did they respond?!” Her eyes were bright.

“Yes!” Logan let a rare grin split his face. “I’m going to college!”

Patton squealed and kissed him passionately, pulling his face to hers. “I’m so proud of you!” 

Logan grinned and kissed back, wrapping his arms around her. ”God, I love you.”

“Love you too, honeybee.” Patton cupped his cheek and melded their lips together. Logan ran a hand through the blue streaks in her hair. 

A few months later, Patton got accepted for a position at an animal shelter in the same town as the college. The owner, Jon, had been very welcoming and accepting of their pronouns and tattoos, and had been excited to learn that they were kind and hardworking. And so they moved into a small apartment with Logan, going to work at the shelter while he went to school and studied astronomy. Logan loved going home to Patton’s smiling face every afternoon, and enjoyed how his significant other would beam and talk endlessly about all of the different animals he had helped. 

It was almost perfect. But there was always something missing, some error figuratively nagging him. He knew that even though he had Patton, and Patton had him, they were still incomplete. They were missing their other parts, their other soulmates. They had taken to just relaxing on the couch, half-focusing on some crappy TV show, absentmindedly leaning on each other and brushing each other’s soul marks. 

Because the truth was, they would never be truly happy until they were complete.


	13. Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: angst, swearing, depressing thoughts, flashbacks, panic attack, Janus is a smol bean who needs love, bad writing

For once in their life, Janus was stable. 

Not only their parents but also the local Sanders College has taken notice of their natural talent for art. They were currently trying to obtain an art major. Right now they were sketching out a landscape on an art tablet, trying to get used to the unfamiliar feel of the stylus in their hand. Digital art was much harder than they had anticipated, but they were slowly adjusting to the new style. 

They fell into a familiar rhythm, seeing the end product in their mind’s eye. Swoops and curves so natural looking that there was no way they could be anything other than painstakingly deliberate were added to the piece, framing the basic shapes. Their hands worked to create a masterpiece, with whorls and spirals of color and light, blended spectacularly into one digital canvas. 

Their phone rang and they immediately stopped, smiling. That was the alarm that reminded them that it was 4:20 on a Saturday, their favorite time of the week. They saved their work and slid the tablet into the case, putting the case into their bag. Ten or so minutes later, they were driving to Jon and Thomas’s work. 

Jon and Thomas owned an animal shelter together, they had for years. Every weekend, without fail, they would drive to the shelter to see them and have dinner. They had even taken a liking to a small snake that resided in the shelter and had named him Salazar. 

They pulled into the parking lot, making sure to lock the car behind them. Walking inside, they waited on the bench, watching as Jon finished cleaning up one of the counters.

And as they looked around, waiting for Thomas to finish discussing something with one of his employees, they noticed something. The employee Thomas was talking to had a black-and-white snake tattoo wrapped around their lower left leg and a colorless sword on their forearm.

Eerily similar to the snake on their own arm and the sword imprinted on their wrist.

They stiffened, the beginnings of a spark stirring inside them. They had never felt anything like it before. The only way to describe it was yearning. Something yearning inside them, wanting nothing other than to go over to that person and talk to them, wrap their arms around them, and hold them for eternity, cradle them in their arms and kiss them softly, hold them close.

Soulmate.

The thought crossed their mind and instantly unlocked a door inside them that they had tried so hard to keep shut and lock with pretty lies like I’m fine and don’t worry about me. The only think they could think was mistake, flaw, monster. Her words were flowing freely through their mind now. Freak. Pathetic. Bitch. Demon. Who could love someone like you? A sin? An undeserving, needy, mistake? A flaw?

The words clawed under their skin, the constant misgenderings and punches and slaps and scars digging into their skin over and over and over again, somehow hurting more than ever. Snake. You lied to everyone. You don’t deserve this. You’ll never deserve this. Liar. Cheater. Pathetic. Can’t even keep themselves from hurting everyone with their presence. You don’t deserve a soulmate. They’d just hate you anyway.

It was like they were nine again, curled up on their too-small bed in their too-small room, too scared to even pull out their only stuffed animal for comfort. It was like the days when Karen had come home more angry than usual, marking their face with slaps and strokes, locking Janus in their room for hours with no food or water, leaving them to wallow in their filth and mistakes.

And before they knew it the person with the snake tattoo looked up and locked eyes with them. Their eyes widened. 

And Janus bolted out of the shelter.

Breathing hard, they ran to their car, their hands pulling at the handle before going to their hair. This was it. They were going to have a panic attack in the middle of the fucking parking lot. 

Everything was spinning, constricting, holding them down, making them breathe harder and faster and more and more and more, blackness spilling from every little crack and flaw and spreading and holding and wrapping around them and trapping them in their own mess, a mess of darkness and flaws and mistakes and no one will ever love you and they’re all lying and ugly and pathetic and weak and weak and weak and-

“Janus?”

The familiar voice cut through the web their mind was spinning and forced them to remove their arms from in front of their face and open their teary eyes.

Jon was in front of them, looking into their eyes with concern chiseled into his features. “You ok, Jan?”

A shuddering breath left their throat. Then another. Then another. Then another. 

“Here.” He reached to take their hand but Janus flinched away.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t... I can’t have-“ They broke off, breathing hard, tears springing to their eyes.

Jon had worry creased into the corners of his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me...”

“I can’t have a soulmate.” Janus gasped, wrapping their arms around themself.

Jon blinked. “Of course you can! Just because you have four doesn’t mean you’re any less valid. Someone will love you no matter what. I promise.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Jon, I don’t deserve love-“

“Yes you do.” Jon met his eyes firmly.

“No...” Monster. Freak. Hazard. Unlovable.

“Janus, you deserve all the love in the world!” 

Janus whipped around. “Don’t you get it?” They spat, glaring at Jon. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be here, with you and Thomas. I don’t deserve to draw and paint and do what I love every day, I don’t deserve to have my own bed and room and life. I don’t deserve food or water, I don’t deserve a single soulmate, let alone four! I deserve to wallow in my own filth in a closet, away from the world, because I don’t deserve to see the world when I’m just a blip in the screen, a mistake, a flaw, a WASTE OF SPACE!” 

Jon was shocked into silence for what seemed like forever. Finally, he reached out a tentative hand. “Janus-“(No, it’s FIIIIIINE REALLY FIIIIIINE- I’m sorry I love mean girls-)

Janus had tears pricking the corners of their eyes. They were backed against the wall. “I-I don’t-“

“Can I hug you?” Jon looked at them with pleading eyes, his arms outstretched. 

Janus let the tears run down their cheeks. ”I don’t deserve it.” 

Without another word they ducked away and into their car, twisting the key and driving to their apartment, tears streaming down their face. 

They were done.


	14. Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: swearing, minor injury, cursing, hospital/top surgery mention, heated kissing.

Roman knew that Virgil had to leave soon. So as his boyfriend walked to the door of their apartment, he grabbed him and scooped him up bridal-style, pecking his lips. He loved when Virgil held on to him for dear life, and although his storm cloud would later deny it, a small squeak passed his lips. “Princey!”

“What?” Roman smirked, kissing him softly. “I’m not allowed to kiss my beautiful boyfriend?”

“Shut up.” Virgil swung his legs down and stood up. Unfortunately for him, Roman was far from done. Gently he framed Virgil’s face and connected their lips once again. Virgil kissed back immediately, basking in his warmth. Hands carded through hair and cupped cheeks, caressing skin gently. Just a soft, semi-sleepy showering of love.

Roman took his emo’s hand and spun him gently, breaking the kiss. “Dork.” Virgil smacked him playfully. Roman laughed, squeezing his hand. “Shut up. You know you love me.” 

“...I hate it when you’re right.” Virgil muttered, hugging Roman and swaying gently. 

Roman laughed softly and nuzzled his head into the taller boy’s chest(Virgil is taller and I refuse to believe otherwise). Virgil carded a hand gently through his hair. 

“Do you think we’ll meet them soon?” Virgil’s hands trailed across the monotone snake tattoo barely peeking out from the collar of Roman’s shirt.

Roman smiled softly. “I know we will, V. It is destiny, after all.”

~timeskip: noon~ 

Roman walked swiftly across the campus. His class didn’t start for another thirty minutes, but he needed to stop at the library to use one of the computers. Quickly, he rushed inside. 

He was oddly giddy. 

He typed in his email password and checked his inbox. Sure enough, there was a new message. 

A small squeak of excitement escaped him as he read, "Top Surgery date confirmed: 23rd of October, 2024"

Today was the 21st of September. 

A month until he could finally take off his binder without a wave of dysphoria overwhelming him. A month until his chest matched who he was inside. 

A month had never seemed so long. 

Grinning, he walked out, backpack swinging from his hands, humming pleasantly. 

At least he would have if he hadn't walked right into the corner of a desk, stumbled, and fell to the floor, his open backpack spilling what must've been at least three dictionary's worth of paper and notes onto the carpet floor. 

He swore, scrambling to get back up. He scooped up some papers and began to shove them into his bag messily. Quickly Roman glanced at the clock. Shit.... only five minutes and half a mile to walk.

That was when one of the hottest boys he had ever seen in his twenty years of life briskly walked over to him and began to help him scoop up his papers. For a millisecond Roman admired the way his bangs fell in front of his face and his fancy blue tie and black polo shirt before snapping out of it and grabbing more papers. In only fifteen or so seconds, they had split the work between them. 

The man handed Roman his papers. He took them, breathless and unfocused. "Thank you."

"It was no problem."

Roman was turning to leave when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of an ink snake wrapped around the man's upper right arm. 

He stopped, blinking. "Holy shit." He breathed. 

"Was there something else you needed?" The man asked nonchalantly, looking up.

Wordlessly Roman held up his forearm to reveal the bright purple storm cloud tattoo that was identical to the one on the back of his apparent soulmate's hand. 

He stiffened, eyes flickering from the storm cloud tattoo to Roman's eyes and back again. 

"...well, this was unexpected." He said after a moment. 

"Understatement, much?"

Roman gripped the man's arm and pulled him quickly to an unoccupied corner of the library, partly hidden by a shelf of philosophy books. Only then did he meet his eyes, a smile crossing his face. "Hi. I'm Roman."

His soulmate stiffened slightly as if shocked by a sudden bolt of lightening. After a moment, he replied. "...I'm Logan."

Roman had nearly forgotten the sheer intensity of the feeling that rolled over him next, hot and cold and burning and soothing all at once. This felt different than Virgil's had, an almost-cool electric current rushing through him instead of a nearly-painful burning shock of lightning striking him all at once, weaving around him and into him, piercing his very soul.

He lifted up his sleeve to admire the deep navy blue of the book on his shoulder. 

"...wow." It took him a moment to realize that it had come from Logan. He tore his eyes away from his own tattoo to see Logan gazing at a golden sword with a red silk ribbon running around it inked into his lower leg. 

Without him realising, Roman's hands went to the nerd's tie and yanked him closer. "Is this ok?" He breathed, eyes flitting to Logan's lips. 

"Please." The breathy voice sounded. 

And then Roman all but pushed him, pressing him into the wall, rough and gentle all at once, relishing in taking Logan apart piece by stoic, smooth piece. He cupped his cheek and grinned at the small whine that escaped the taller man's lips, kissing him harder just to hear it again. They clashed like fire and ice, sun and moon, earth and sky, pulling each other ever closer. It was a fight of sorts, nipping at bottom lips and hands gripping shirts, lips moving in sync with one another, much like their hearts, pulsing and beating as one. 

His soulmate. Logan, Logan, Logan. 

He couldn't stop repeating the name in his mind. It was something he had never know that he needed, but it was so perfect, so warm, so comforting. He supposed it was because Logan was a part of him, in a sense. Part of his soul. 

When they finally broke away Roman realised that his class was half over. However, he couldn't find it in himself to care, grinning at Logan's swollen lips, letting him trace a hand over the tattoo on his shoulder, threading their fingers together. 

Logan, his nerd. Logan, his soulmate. 

Logan, his.


	15. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suddenly got inspiration to continue this. 
> 
> ...probably because we’ve arrived at some of the angstiest Janus content I’ve ever written lmao.
> 
> TW: crying, death mentions, inner demons, abuse mentions, more TW’s at the end of the chapter(they contain spoilers, read them if you want)

Janus didn’t know how long they’d been curled up on the floor.

It didn’t really matter. It hurt to think. Everything was spinning around them, spiraling, sending them into a dark abyss of all of their demons and thoughts, rendering them to a shaking, shivering mess who could do nothing but curl up on their tiled bathroom floor and sob. 

**_Everyone hates you. You’re an abomination. You don’t deserve any of this. You’re taking advantage of everyone around you. You’re a burden. You’re weak._ **

_“I know!”_ they tried to tell the demons that were screaming at him, screeching in their ears so loudly that it was a wonder that they could still hear. _“I know I’m worthless! I know I’m ugly! I know I’m a freak! I know that I’m unlovable!”_

But the voices only got louder and louder, surrounding them, swallowing them, stripping them away until their real self showed, a tiny, trembling child, holding back tears as their guardian slapped them and showed them the pain that they deserved. One voice rang louder than the others.

**_Just do it. You know it’s what everyone would want._ **

They had lost all control of their arms, watching helplessly as their hand reached out to grip the plastic handle of his razor. 

Ironically, it was the easiest thing Janus had done in months. Their fingers nimbly twisted the blades out of the razor. They rolled up their sleeves, tears blinding them so much that they could barely see their wrists, covered in scars faded from almost seven months without taking a blame to their skin. 

That changed within minutes. 

Their breath was in quick bursts, hard and shaking. Blood dripped down their wrists and stained the counters and floor, choked sobs escaping their throat as they relished in the familiar pain, the pain that they knew that they deserved. 

They made the mistake of looking at their reflection and broke, collapsing to the floor, dropping the blade, one crimson hand going up to their face and tracing the rough scar on their cheek, loud sobs racking their body. They didn’t know if the black smoky tendrils that were emerging from every crack in every wall and tile and surface and curling around them, trapping them in an eternal darkness, were real. 

All that they knew was that they deserved it. 

They thought that when they died it would be like letting go, letting the sweet release of nothingness wash over them. But as it turned out, they had let go an eternity ago. 

As they felt their eyes slip shut, the only coherent thought in their head was that the would would be a better place without them in it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, cutting, blades, implied suicide/death.


	16. Cuddle Puddle for Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When did I start up with the daily updates again? Damn.
> 
> And yes, the next chapter is about Janus. I won’t leave you hanging for too long. Wink wink.
> 
> tw: tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, kissing
> 
> note: Patton uses the neopronouns xe/xer in this chapter :)

Patton was just about ecstatic.

First, while talking to xer boss Thomas, xe had caught a glimpse of someone with a monotone snake tattoo curling around their left wrist, identical to the colorless one inked into xer lower leg. 

But before xe could talk to them, they had run out of the building, Thomas’s eyes following them in a concerned gaze. 

Patton was going to ask who that had been, but just as xe opened xer mouth, xer phone vibrated. Quickly xe checked it and xer eyes widened, a grin spreading across xer face. 

“Hey, is it ok if I leave early?” xe turned to Thomas, eyes bright. 

“We’re probably gonna close early today anyway.” Thomas muttered, glancing at Patton for a second before watching his husband Jon open the door to jog after whoever had just run out of the shelter. “May I ask why?”

Xe grinned, showing Thomas xer phone screen. “I think I just got two more soulmates.”

Twenty minutes later, xe was pulling up to the apartment xe shared with Logan. Quickly parking, xe nearly ran to xer door and knocked. 

The door swung open to reveal a boy with a black and purple hoodie and eyeshadow framing his eyes. 

Patton forgot how to speak for a moment because _holy crap, he was adorable_. A grin spread across xer face. 

“Hi. I’m Virgil.” He breathed, eyes wide. 

“I’m Patton.” Xe said at nearly the same time. 

Suddenly, it felt like xe had been struck with a bolt of white-hot lightening. But it wasn’t painful. No, it was more shocking, energetic, _warm_ , a tingling sensation spreading through xer body, curling around xer and into xer, making xer gasp and stiffen. 

Xe dared to lift up xer shirt just enough to reveal the deep purple storm cloud tattoo inked into xer lower stomach.

“Holy shit.” Virgil breathed, glancing down at the bright blue heart on his leg. 

Their eyes met and suddenly Patton grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. Virgil stiffened before relaxing, leaning into xem. “Oh. Oh, you’re very warm.”

Patton smiled. “Thanks!”

They pulled apart and made their way to the living room, where Logan was flipping through some book he had found at the library and relaxing in the lap of someone with overly intricate clothes and a trans pride pin on his shirt reading _he/him_. 

When he saw xer, he grinned, smirking as he shoved Logan out of his lap. He let out a dignified squeak. “Roman! I was reading!” 

As soon as the name fell from xer boyfriend’s lips, Patton felt a different sensation, almost like fire, burning and warm, spreading from xer forearm up to the rest of xer body, burning bright and hot, caressing xer skin and curling inside xer. Patton was surprised that xe wasn’t glowing. 

“I’m Patton.” xe breathed, looking in wonder at the bright red and gold of the sword on xer arm and glancing up to see Roman’s breath hitch and the heart on his leg shine a bright sky blue. 

Roman grinned and stood up, wrapping his arms around xer in a hug and pressing their foreheads together. Patton felt arms wrap around xer from behind and smiled when xe noticed Logan coming over to peck xer cheek. 

Xe turned to face Virgil, smiling softly. Xe cupped his cheek and leaned in close, gazing into deep brown eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” It was barely whispered but still loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Virgil nodded, ever so slightly. 

Slowly, Patton leaned in, closing xer eyes. Virgil met xem halfway and _oh_. 

Kissing Virgil was like nothing xe had ever experienced. Xe was half-convinced that he wasn’t human, was just a raging storm cloud wrapped into a boy with a deep purple hoodie and black smudges under his eyes. He kissed him softly but surely and Patton could feel the tension barely held back, sparks of lightning curling under his skin, pulling xer closer and gripping xer cardigan. Xer hand went to his side and fingered gently at his sharp hipbone, eliciting a soft whine from the taller. Warmth was spreading between them and through them, connecting them together like destiny had always intended. 

Eventually Patton pulled away gently, grinning and panting for air. Xe didn’t really have time to speak before Roman had grabbed xer arm and whisked xer into his embrace, his honey-brown eyes piercing xer’s. Xe nodded and nearly instantly he pulled xer into a kiss, cupping xer cheek. Xe reciprocated instantly, leaning into him and sliding xer arms under his, pulling him closer. Kissing Roman was different, like fire was lapping at xer feet, burning brighter than the hottest flames xe could have ever imagined. He was intoxicating, carding a hand through xer short curls, his lips moving in perfect sync against xer’s. It was almost too warm but Patton loved it, needed it. It was almost as if this was a part of xer. 

It was, in a sense. Roman was xer _soulmate_. The universe had matched them for a reason. 

Roman pulled away and Patton smiled, panting softly, cuddling closer to him. Xe felt arms wrap around her from the side and glanced over to peck Logan on the lips, grinning. 

They ended up curled up together on the couch, Roman spooning Patton, Logan nuzzled into Roman’s side and Virgil cuddling into Patton. This was xer almost-perfect cuddle puddle. 

With all of xer excitement about xer two amazing newfound soulmates, Patton completely forgot to tell Logan, Roman and Virgil about the person with the snake tattoo.


	17. Can I Hug You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Janus is very VERY out of character in this book. How did I just realize that?
> 
> Welp
> 
> TW: swearing, demons, suicide mentions, death mentions, crying

When Janus blinked open their eyes, they were surprised to find that they weren’t burning in hell for the rest of eternity like they deserved. 

No, instead they were laying on a king-sized bed, pillows either side of them propping them up, bandages wrapped around their wrists all the way up to their forearms. 

Blearily they tried to sit up, but as soon as they did a wave of dizziness came over them. 

“...where am I?” they croaked.

Suddenly the world came into view and they saw Thomas jogging over to them, a relieved smile flitting across his face before it melted back into concern. "Janus?"

They flinched backwards. _I'm not dead._

The realization hit them like a truck and a sob escaped their mouth as they curled in on themself. The voices returned, louder than ever before, surrounding them, engulfing them, _swallowing_ them. _Weak. Failure. Can't do anything right. Such a freak. Such an abomination. Can't even kill themself in the right way._

They couldn't even kill themself without doing something wrong. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" they repeated the phrase over and over again, their eyes squeezing shut, as if the simple repetition of those two words would make everything alright, would make them normal, would make their demons leave them alone for once in their pathetic life. 

"No, _I'm_ sorry." 

Janus dared to open their eyes slightly and saw Thomas sitting down next to them, gripping Jon's hand, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "I'm so, so sorry Janus."

Janus shook their head. "It's my fault... God, I'm so fucking _weak_..." 

"No you're not, Jay." Jon cupped their cheek slightly, brushing the tears away. "You're still here, and that means something. You withstood the death of your parents or guardians _three times_. In your life, you've faced discrimination at every turn because of your soul marks."

"You're so fucking strong, Janus. You're amazing, and you're so, so beautiful in the eyes of Jon and I." Thomas continued softly. "I promise that you do deserve love, Janus. You deserve every kindness in this world."

Janus shook their head quickly, their tears nearly blinding them. "No! No I don't, please stop, you don't have to lie to me! I know I'm a freak, the world would be better if I wasn't in it-"

"Janus." Jon looked at him, determination glowing in his eyes. "Can I hug you?"

"W-why?" Their voice cracked. 

"Because you deserve to be loved." Thomas's arms snaked loosely around their waist, and Janus subconsciously leaned into the touch. "I love you, Janus."

That was when Janus fully broke, a sob wracked from their mouth, falling into Thomas's arms and latching onto him. They felt Jon hug them from behind and whimpered because they hadn't been in their embrace like this ever, in their entire life. 

It was so _warm_. Their demons yelled that they were just taking advantage of them, that they were pulling Thomas and Jon down with them, that Jon and Thomas didn't deserve to have to take care of them, that they were just a burden. 

For the first time, they ignored them and just focused on the way Thomas cradled them and the way Jon hugged them tight to his chest, and they cried into Thomas's shirt and couldn't bring themself to stop. And maybe, just _maybe_ , they were considering staying, considering being selfish for once and enjoying their embrace for as long as they could. 

And suddenly Janus felt the words rising up inside them, bubbling inside of their chest, warmer than fire, warmer than the flames that surrounded them. 

"I love you too." They croaked, cuddling into Thomas and basking in the warmth of Jon cradling them. 

Thomas's breath hitched and he looked at Janus, eyes wide and a grin on his face, before pulling them closer and letting them nuzzle into the crook of his neck. And for the first time since they had seen... _whoever_ that was at the pet shelter(soulmate, something inside Janus whispered. They elected to ignore it), Janus smiled. Jon pressed a kiss to Janus's forehead and they melted, cuddling into him, leaning backwards into his embrace. 

"One more thing..." Jon bit his lip slightly. "Janus, I promise that you deserve your soulmates. Fate gave you four for a reason... you deserve love just like everyone else. You are beautiful. You are not a screw-up, you are not worthless, you're not a burden, you're not a waste of space. And if you think that your schoolmates hate you, you're most definitely wrong." He smiled softly. 

Janus couldn't believe their ears. They knew they still didn't deserve their soulmates. 

But....

Jon and Thomas had saved them from their demons. 

Jon and Thomas _loved them._

That had to mean something, right?

They swallowed. "...how do you know?"

A small smile crossed Thomas's face. "Me and Jon have known that one of our employees is your soulmate for almost a year. We decided to leave it up to destiny to decide when you met. I won't tell you their name, but they have a boyfriend, and the other day they met their other two soulmates."

Janus's breath hitched. Not only did they have four soulmates, but they all knew each other already. 

If they introduced themself, wouldn't they just be intruding?

"I'm not ready. I can't meet them yet." They whispered, wrapping their arms around themself. "I'm not strong enough."

"Hey." Jon squeezed Janus's hand and smiled softly when they looked up. "It's ok. Me and Thomas will always be here for you."

"We promise." Thomas whispered. 

Janus felt themself tear up as they leaned into their dads'.

For once in their life, they let themself hope.


	18. Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a simple filler chapter, no plot-changing twists here, folks.
> 
> wink.
> 
> tw: food mentions, swearing, Karen mentions, car accident mentions, injury mentions, lizard/snake/reptile mentions, mentions of racism and homophobia(blink and you'll miss the racism, its only like a half a second in passing), tooth-rotting fluff.

"Love, the lizards need more food."

"Got it."

Thomas smiled softly, pecking Jon's cheek before flipping the sign on the front door of the shelter to _open_ and going over to the reptile section to feed the lizards and snakes. It had been about a week since Janus had first seen Patton and realized that their soulmates were closer than they had ever thought, and Thomas felt like they were, slowly but surely, recovering. While they were still opposed to the idea of one soulmate, let alone four, he knew that they were opening up to his dads more than they had ever before. 

He knew these things took time. He had gone through nearly the same thing. 

Suddenly, his phone rang. He looked down at the contact on the screen and instantly grinned, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hey, Patrick!"

"Hey!" His brother responded. Thomas could hear the smile on his face even through the staticky weirdness of their poor connection. "How have you been?" He asked.

"I'm doing fine. Quil and I are actually painting our house at the moment." He laughed. "You know that brick wall by the fence? The ugly one? They had the brilliant idea of painting some kind of mural on it. We're gonna paint the pangender flag for them and the bi flag for me, just to piss off all of the Karens we live next to."

"Wasn't one of them literally named Karen?"

Patrick snorted. "Yeah, she was a real bitch. Actually, um... come to think of it, I think she might have been Janus's... mom, if you could call the literal spawn of Satan that."

Thomas winced. "Can you punch her for me?"

"Pretty sure fate beat me to it. She almost died in a car accident and now has to use crutches."

"Serves her right." Thomas muttered. Sure, the statement was a little morally grey, but Thomas loved Janus and had become very protective around them. "Anything else new?" 

"Nothing really. Same old job, same old everything." His voice considerably brightened. "I did convince the school to let me teach the kids about the history of using art to speak up for things like homophobic views and racial injustice."

"Really? Wow, I thought everyone was homophobic in your area."

"Only like, two-thirds of the population. And if I get my way, I'll be able to teach these kids even under their parents' influences." 

"Just don't work yourself too hard, ok? You've already done plenty of good in this world." Thomas smiled softly. Janus was a living reminder of that every day. 

"Yeah, but I want to do more. This town is a shithole. It needs someone to help it along."

Thomas felt his lips curl into a small grin. "I couldn't think of anyone better to do it."

"I have to go in a bit, I have to plan my curriculum for the first couple weeks of school." Thomas nodded and went to hang up. He knew his brother was busy.

"Wait, before you go, question. Do you wanna maybe come visit soon, like for a day or so? I haven't seen you since I helped you find Janus back when you first adopted him, and Quil hasn't seen you and Jon in ages. They'll definitely want _all_ the tea."

"One sec, let me check my schedule." Thomas opened his calendar. "When were you thinking?"

"Maybe this Saturday?"

"That works." Thomas smiled softly. "I'm sure Janus will be glad to see you again."

He chuckled. "I sure hope so. Well, I guess I'll talk to you later, I have to do a lesson plan. See you soon!"

"Bye! Love you."

"Love you too."

Thomas hung up and pocketed his phone. "Who was that?" Jon asked.

"Patrick. He wants us to visit in a couple of days, I hope that's ok?"

Jon frowned slightly. "Isn't Janus's former guardian living a couple neighborhoods over?"

"Yeah, but Patrick told me she's on crutches. And even if she does somehow find Janus in the hour or so we'll be there, I won't hesitate to slap the bitch if she even comes close to hurting them."

Jon considered it for a bit. "It _has_ been forever since we've seen them. Plus, Janus hasn't even met him yet. Well, not as their uncle. And he hasn't ever seen Quil, I know that they'll like her."

"So, it's a date?"

"It is."

Thomas's eyes widened and he gasped, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He put a hand over his heart. "Oh my God. No way. Are you, like, flirting with me?"

Jon laughed, capturing his lips momentarily. "Yes. Yes I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe


	19. Two Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS WAS OUT LAST NIGHT ON QUOTEV 😭😭
> 
> RIP MY SLEEPING SCHEDULE
> 
> I didn't mention this before but Emile is a demiboy and uses both he/him and they/them pronouns :)
> 
> TW: swearing, some MUCH NEEDED character depth/development

“Where are we going again?”

Thomas winked at them through the rear view mirror. “It’s a surprise.”

Janus signed in frustration(and fondness), letting a small smile cross their face momentarily. They pulled out their art tablet and continued sketching, aimlessly setting up the framework for a full-body drawing. They had to finish this commission by next week, and although they had plenty of time to draw they liked to get things done ahead of time. 

They had nearly finished the lineart when the car slowed and pulled off of the highway. Janus glanced up and bit their lip. Jon saw their worried face and smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re just going to visit Thomas’s brother Patrick... well, your uncle, I guess, and his spouse Quil. They’re both really nice.” 

Janus nodded, some of their unease fading slightly. Thomas and Jon wouldn’t hurt them. 

_...right?_

 _Of course they won’t._ Janus reassured themself. Still, they couldn’t help the anxiety that creeped ever so slightly up their spine. 

They slid their tablet into their bag as they pulled into a driveway, teeth worrying slightly at their lip. It looked so similar to that uniform grey house with the too-small room and-

Well, no, it didn’t. Because they could see, on the brick wall of a fence, were the bright pink-purple-magenta and the white-yellow-pink-pastel colors of the bisexual and pangender flags. Their eyes widened. 

And then they saw the face of someone waiting in the doorframe, smiling and waving at them as Thomas pulled into the driveway. 

A face so familiar that Janus stood bolt upright. A face that contained so, so many memories, a face that was probably one of the reasons that they were still here today. 

“...holy shit.” They breathed. 

They swung open their car door and suddenly, for the first time in years, came face-to-face with someone who had impacted their life so, so much. 

"...Mr. Williams?" they breathed. 

Their old art teacher smiled softly. "Hey, Janus." 

Janus let out a muffled cry of disbelief, and suddenly they were engulfed in a tight embrace, protective and warm, cradling them tight. Memories of so many lunches spent in a crappy middle school art studio, splattering paint onto a canvas or sketching proportions or shifting and bending the clay to their will until it was nearly flawless came flowing back to them, like a dam had broken and the memories were engulfing him, their sour memories of this town turned bittersweet, at least when they had a way to express themself. 

"...You're my _uncle_?" 

Patrick chuckled. "It seems we have some catching up to do. Why don't you come on in?"

**~nyehehehe >:) le plot twist~**

Emile blinked open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the alarm clock on their bedside table that read _2:58 AM_ in burning crimson. 

The second thing they noticed was the head of messy hair sleepily nuzzling into the crook of his neck and the pair of arms wrapping around their waist from behind. 

He smiled, relaxing into the warmth of their boyfriends' embraces. Remus's mustache brushed up against his chest and he raised a hand to card through his hair, finger drifting across the bright yellow star tattoo on his cheek. Their eyes fluttered shut only to open once again. Of course they woke up in the middle of the night the day before his exam. 

They leaned back into the warmth of Remy's hold, finger drifting aimlessly over their interlocking hands. 

Although, they couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to hold hands with someone who had a ring on his finger. 

Specifically, one of the two rings Emile had purchased a couple of days ago that were now hiding, stuffed to the back of his dresser. 

He bit his lip at the reminder, almost laughing at the irony. He was learning to be a couples therapist, to help people through relationships. And yet, they couldn't even seem to work up the courage to take the next step in their own lives, with his own(hopefully) soon to be husbands. 

They glanced down and just looked at Remus's face. God, he adored him. He loved him with all of his heart. And Remy. Remy, Remy, Remy. They had known Remy for years now and though they both had had issues to work out, they powered through them. Together. Emile loved both of the men he was sleeping with so, so goddamn much. 

They let their eyes flutter shut and drifted off, dreams of spending the rest of his life with his loves inevitable.


End file.
